Pawns
by LLWild
Summary: It wasn't fair. They were kids, really. Raised up as pawns in the adults' war. Hermione Granger learned it better than anyone. In her second year, Hermione stumbles upon a discovery that changes the course of everything. Everything.
1. 1 - The Beginning

DISCLAIMER: Here's the only disclaimer I'll be posting, for the entire story: Harry Potter Universe? Not mine. If you recognize it? Not mine.

The Beginning

 _I've never met a strong person with an easy past. - Atticus_

She was awake. Of all the rotten luck - petrification was supposed to turn one to stone! Hermione fumed silently, not that there was another way she could fume, honestly. Her eyes, stuck open, could only see the one area they were fixed upon. When various body parts of her few visitors passed before her shocked face, she had a blessed change of scenery. Otherwise she drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of time passing, but only just. She was unable to move, and only alert when movement crossed her line of vision.

Hell. She was in hell.

* * *

 _Hermione smoothed the page she discovered in her book bag. At first, she was unsettled. The page was obviously torn from a book. Soon, she was staring at the page in horror, not caring one whit about an abused tome. There was a basilisk at the school. Somebody knew and rather than say anything about it they slipped a crinkled piece of parchment into her book bag. She wasn't even sure how long it had resided in her bag. Raising said bag to the table, Hermione unceremoniously swept her things in. Glancing once more at the page in her hand, she crumpled the parchment and strode to the only other student in the library._

" _Hello, do you happen to have a mirror on you?"_

* * *

It took her frozen eyes a few moments to adjust to the pale face staring down at her.

"I'm glad you were only petrified," he was saying. "I couldn't think of a real way to warn you. Not one that you would take seriously. Especially after that incident at the quidditch pitch. And, well," he mumbled something about his Father and proper behavior. "He has ways of knowing if I don't. Mother says not to ever break character." He rubbed his hands through his hair and his tone grew agitated. "But I managed to sneak away for a bit and since you're petrified and can't actually hear me I can apologize. You won't actually hear it, right? So there's no chance that my father will know." He pursed his pale lips and drew in a fortifying breath. Then softly, so softly she almost missed it, he whispered, "I'm sorry about the way I have to treat you." He was staring directly into her shocked eyes. "Don't look so surprised," he joked weakly. Then he frowned. "That was stupid, sorry."

"Really though, I'm sorry, I can't break character. I have to maintain that image that father expects and you are a high-profile target according to mother. I don't really believe it, that blood stuff. I don't like bullying people, but I'm not old enough to stand up to him. Someday, maybe when mother and I are both safe, I can apologize for real." A gusty sigh. "You know, when you can actually hear me."

His eyes shifted toward the floor, then back up to her face. He swore, "I've been away too long! Granger I swear if I get in trouble for apologizing to your statue - "

She didn't hear the rest of his threat, only his retreating footsteps shuffling quickly away from her and out of the hospital wing.  
Well that was a strange hallucination, she thought to herself. She must be terribly bored to have dreamt of Malfoy of all people. How much time had passed anyway?

Hermione spent her next block of mostly-consciousness debating whether or not petrified basilisk victims were actually stone. If they remained, would time wear them down like stone? But how could she be stone if she could still think? Her lungs were not working, nor any other bodily functions. So why was her brain?

* * *

Returning from summer break was harder than she'd ever admit to Ron and Harry. Part of it was her parents. But the bigger problem was honestly her. They were worried she was in danger. She knew she was, but couldn't - wouldn't - tell them. She had to go back. And to go back to her magical school she had to be dishonest with her non magical parents.

The other problem was Draco Malfoy.

Right before she was restored from her statuesque state she had one final visit from Draco Malfoy. He'd apologized one last time, then staring straight ahead he admitted quietly, "I know you can hear me."

If she could have, she might have gasped. Or blinked. Instead she continued staring at his pointed chin.

* * *

 _Draco decided to tell Granger what he learned. After he'd read that book he knew a confrontation was necessary. Better to do it when she couldn't yell back._

 _"I was reading about petrified people. The potion, actually, to cure it. Snape had_ _Obscure Potions for Unfortunate Situations_ _in his office when I went by to…" Draco knew his voice was becoming more clipped and precise, he could thank his tutor for that. The posh accent was enforced before he came to school, but as soon as he was away from home he shrugged it off like a jumper his mother forced upon him before he went out to play. It, being more natural to him than the accent he affected at school, became more pronounced when he was stressed, but he couldn't stop it. "In chapter seven there was an account of a man who spent seven months petrified."_

 _Much to Draco's horror, the man had been conscious the entire period. Taking care to avoid suspicion, Draco tore through the library for any similar stories. To his consternation, only some petrification victims remained conscious._

 _After a time, Draco noticed a pattern. Those who remained in an awake state during their petrification knew what they were facing, and were generally quite clever. He explained this to the motionless Granger._

 _"I know you found the page." He indicated her hand, still holding the crumpled parchment, before realizing that his movement was likely out of her range of vision._

 _"I," he hesitated, hating what he had to say, "I know you heard me last time. Do not expect me to treat you any differently. If my father gets any hint of me not following his footsteps. Well, it is not a risk I am willing to take." Draco finally looked at Granger's face.  
"We are not friends." He thought maybe they could have been friends, under different circumstances. There was, however, no point in considering that. "I cannot be nice to you. I will not. I just wanted to warn you. It will only get worse. And I am… Well this is the last time you will hear me say it so I hope you are actually awake. I'm sorry." Having said all he meant to, Draco shuffled a little awkwardly._

 _"Also, I read that recovering from petrification is painful, so good luck. Uhm, see you."_

 _And with that, Draco slipped out of the infirmary.  
_

* * *

As a matter of fact, turning from a statue back into a human with functions organs had been incredibly painful. Fortunately, the pain had been brief. Hermione was grateful for the warning, even if it was imparted to her by Malfoy.

Now that she was headed back to Hogwarts, and armed with the information she had, she wondered what to tell her friends. Draco Malfoy wasn't the worst human? No. She never indicated that she heard anything anyone said to her while petrified. As soon as they were able to respond to queries, Madam Pomfrey asked if they had been aware during their time in the hospital wing. Following everyone else's lead, Hermione carefully schooled her features into that of confusion. She'd continued to lie to everyone else.

It had been incredibly difficult to not look at Draco Malfoy differently, but she tried her best. Judging by the subtle glances of confusion from Malfoy, she was successful.

A/N: Hey guys, uh... LL Here.  
I welcome reviews, I'm posting on this website for a couple reasons, one of them being to work on my writing style, which I desperately need to develop. Please be nice! The other reason is to entertain. I love fanfiction. So... please review (if you want).  
I don't have this story entirely mapped out, but it's likely to be small chapters, snapshots up until the 7th year. Probably ending a year or two after that. I don't anticipate it being a long story. My goal is to post regularly, once a week. But we'll see, I'm new at this.  
ta-ta!

LL


	2. 2 - It's the Thought

It's the Thought

 _Even the best thief in the world can't steal time. - Ally Carter_

* * *

She'd never expected third year to be quite so hard. A hefty bout of self-pity seemed so appealing, but Hermione simply couldn't waste the time. She had work to do.

Little particles floated in the column of light next to her chair. She chose this musty alcove knowing that, at this time of day, she wouldn't be there. Not yet. Hermione knew the rules and scheduled herself well.

She sneezed, then cursed She'd forgotten to take her medicine! Now she'd be sneezing until after her next scheduled… Oh, it was hard! Hermione's hand shot down into her bag and swung around wildly until she found the small pack of tissues she stowed in there. It wasn't an ideal solution, but she was unwilling to switch her schedule now. She set the tissues on the cushion next to her and opened the tome resting on her lap.

* * *

Hermione woke with a jolt and barely caught the book before it tumbled onto the stone floor. The noise was likely to bring Madam Pince swooping into Hermione's little corner if she wasn't careful. She bent to retrieve her book and checked her watch.

"Drat!"

She was losing her touch. Maybe if she had more time to sleep…

No. That was too much. Hermione needed to get out of the library now, but she didn't want to risk the common room. Not with Ron and Harry being so…

Hermione fought back a sniffle and finished packing her torturously heavy book bag. She would have to brave that empty classroom near Myrtle's bathroom.

She ought to make a not in her planner, but she needed to leave the library or risk running into herself when she would actually need to be seen here.

Huffing a little, she stumbled out of her alcove and ran straight into someone.

"Oof!" She landed squarely on her seat.

"Watch it!" Draco Malfoy loomed over her. As desperate as she was to get out of the library, she felt anger bubble up in her.

 _No!_

No. Now was not the time to start a fight. She fought it down and mumbled a quick, "Sorry Malfoy," as she picked herself up and ran out of the library.

* * *

Draco, after realizing he had bumped into Granger, was spitting mad. He knew for a fact that Granger was standing in the stacks on the other corner of the library, near the restricted section.

He had snuck over here to avoid her and the niggling guilt he had whenever he looked at her. Stupid girl.

She was in two places at once. Magically speaking, Draco knew this wasn't impossible. He'd grown up in this world, after all, and thought a little differently than, say, a muggle-born. But it meant she was either breaking rules - laws, even - or had special privileges.

He had to know.

* * *

That - oh! Hermione couldn't see straight she was so angry. Malfoy was for certain, no way around it, an incredible arse! He had milked his non-injury for all it was worth. He couldn't leave well-enough alone, could he? She thought, that maybe, after last year…

But no, even the prat had warned her not to expect different behavior from him. That made it all worse, somehow, knowing he was playing a part. Just how much of him was a decent human being, and how much of him was the awful brat trying to get Buckbeak killed?

Did it even matter?

She was so tired. At least now Harry and Ron were talking to her again. But that wouldn't change things. She tried so hard, and still knew…

It wasn't going to work. The Malfoy patriarch had money and influence and his son had a vendetta for a creature he had sustained a well-deserved injury from. But she couldn't say that, not to Harry or Ron, and especially not to Hagrid.

She sighed and opened another book. She needed to revise. And honestly, she desperately needed a break from worrying about Buckbeak. It was looming over her.

She was so desperately tired.

* * *

 _THWACK!_ Malfoy's head snapped back even as his hands flew up to defend his face.

Much too slow. Hermione wanted to keep pounding her hands into his stupid smirk but turned away. It took all her self-control not to cradle her fist. Punching people hurt. Who knew?

She watched Malfoy run away from her, cradling his nose.

It served him right.

* * *

Hermione lay in the lumpy bed in the hospital wing, the curtains drawn around her for privacy. She hadn't felt so relaxed in a long time. They had done well. For the first time that school year she wasn't following a rigid schedule, looking over her shoulder, wondering if anyone suspected, avoiding herself.

She was already sitting up and mostly alert, So Hermione simply watched Draco Malfoy back quietly into her curtained-off bed in the hospital wing. Instead of hissing at him, she quietly grabbed her wand from the nightstand and waited for him to turn around. She slipped her hands under the blanket, Why had he come now?

He spun around and was unable to stop an undignified squeak when his eyes landed on her. Obviously, he had the wrong bed.

"Granger!"

"Malfoy."

"Why are you awake?"

"Better question - why are you here?"

They stared at each other. Malfoy raised his chin stubbornly before letting his shoulders slump a bit. "Is that hippogriff alive?"  
Hermione bristled, "What do you care?" She watched his shoulders slump more and said, "He got away. Gone. Out of your father's reach. Don't be too disappointed."

Hermione watched Malfoy's face as it softened in relief. _Is he serious?_ She had no way of knowing. Hermione wanted to believe the best in this secretly okay Draco Malfoy, but…

"What are you doing here?" She finally hissed. She couldn't, she just _couldn't_ believe that he was an okay person. He called her names! He tormented Harry and belittled Ron at every turn! Malfoy was a bully currently occupying her space, he was unwelcome.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and glared at the floor. She had no trouble hearing his sharply enunciated answer, "I wanted to make sure you would not say anything."

Ah. That. Maybe he had the right bed after all. Hermione did some quick thinking and decided playing dumb was the best option here. She widened her eyes. "What are you on about? Say anything about what?"

He raised his eyes to meet hers, disbelief obvious on his face. She couldn't help it if he thought she was lying. She was.

"About last year," he prompted.

"What about it? I was petrified for a good deal of it, spent a record-breaking amount of time in the hospital wing, and the other part I mostly remember a whole lot of name calling!" She gripped her wand tighter, wanting that comfort. She was a witch. She could defend herself. Or at least hold her own against Malfoy. And the names didn't matter. They didn't. _They didn't_.

Hermione watched Malfoy's eyes darting side-to-side. Maybe he decided that she was telling the truth because he swore quietly under his breath and put a mean smirk on his face. He stood up straighter, throwing his shoulders back. "Forget I was here, Granger, I mean it." Aha, the good old 'I mean it.' Last resort of desperate parents everywhere. Malfoy probably didn't know it was the desperate last resort for parents who were usually subpar at discipline.

She briefly considered pushing him, or maybe… Maybe they could talk about…

No. No, he was a bully trying to stay on daddy's good side. The mean mask he supposedly put on proved it. But she didn't want him hanging around either. "It would be a waste of time to remember," she said.

With a jerky nod, Malfoy peeked back out through the hangings and slipped out of her space.

Hermione sighed gustily and lay back down on her pillow. She caught the gleam of the time-turner underneath her shirt and pulled it out. She needed to drop Muggle Studies. It was a silly class for her to be taking. And useless for wizards, but she wasn't about to tell them that. Honestly, they would do better to learn how to actually function in the muggle world, not the rubbish they taught in that class. What did it matter how electricity worked when they didn't even know what a light switch was? With that off her schedule, as well as Divination she would be able to hopefully get to all her classes and do all her work without needing extra time. But that also meant they would be taking the time-turner away.

And look what they had done with it. They saved Sirius _and_ Buckbeak.

And lost Pettigrew. And Professor Lupin had... She shuddered.

No, it was better to give it up. All that extra time had aged her more than her friends and she was already older than them to begin with. She didn't want that responsibility weighing down on her along with all of her classes, plus managing Harry and Ron. Those two were enough trouble as it was. Better to not have the temptation to abuse the power she had been given for the year. She would give it back to Dumbledore in the morning.

As she drifted off to sleep she had one last troubling thought, just there on the edges of her mind. How had Malfoy even known she was in the hospital wing?

* * *

Draco waited outside the hospital wing for five minutes, then ten. Then twenty. After half an hour passed he slipped back into the cavernous room and crept toward the hangings that ensconced Granger. This time, he peeked into her area before walking in. He was always backing into trouble. Better to check where he was going than where he currently was. Probably.

She was asleep, her wildly large hair all around her head like another pillow. Her arms were flung up above her head, hands tangled hopelessly in that hair. He would have laughed in any other setting. Instead, he slipped quietly in and avoided looking at her face. At least she didn't snore.

The next bit he was worried about, but almost laughed out loud when he saw it, sitting there on the nightstand next to her. How stupid, to leave something that valuable just sitting around. Maybe Granger was only book smart. The thought made him grin.

Staring at Granger, to make sure she didn't wake up and start playing dumb at him again, he rummaged around in his pocket. Slowly he pulled on the gold chain until swinging in front of him was a time-turner.

It was a trinket from his own Gringotts vault. Entirely worthless, though, it didn't work. He grabbed it over the winter break, on the off chance that he was right, and Granger had special privileges

Stupid bloody Gryffindors and their preferential treatment in absolutely everything.

He stepped up to the nightstand and studied the time-turner laying there. It looked the same. Even the chain was similar enough. He wondered if that mattered. Would Granger notice if the chain she wore around her neck the entire year was slightly different? The links on his looked a little larger. If the chains were important, though, and he thought they were…  
No. He wouldn't switch the chain. He wasn't actually sure if he could switch it anyway. That decided, he studied how the turner was laying on the nightstand, then quickly grabbed it and stuffed it in his pocket. He did his best to rearrange the broken time-turner to match how Granger's had lain upon the desk.

With another quick glance at Granger, he started backing away. He stopped at the curtain, remembering that he really ought to look where he was going first. He peeked out and saw nothing save for other closed bed hangings in an empty ward. He took one final glance back at the sleeping Granger. _Honestly all that hair, how does she breathe with it floating around her face like that?_

He slipped out of the room.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for following along with this story. Special thanks to those who reviewed; I appreciated the feedback! If you do take the time to review this chapter and happen to know good spotify playlists (instrumental, heavily piano, acoustic something, anything not too distracting haha) for writing to, I would love to hear suggestions! There are these dogs at apartments _surrounding_ my apartment that bark ALL DAY LONG. It's driving me barmy.

There may be a little timeline smudging. I try to stay mostly correct, but since it is fanfiction that is eventually going to veer dramatically from canon, I hope you will all be okay with the smudging.

Anyway, thanks, guys, I really am new at this. Not necessarily writing, but writing in spaces that allow for feedback. It's very nervewracking, isn't it? I tried to fix the formatting in the last chapter, but it isn't working out. *cries* Formatting seems to remain elusive for me. Any suggestions on that? I'm stuck using the page break lines for every single break until I figure it out. Thank you for reading!

Ta-ta!  
LL


	3. 3 - In Turn

In Turn

 _Silly of me for thinking honesty and friendship were important these days. The new trend is all about being secretive and shady._

Draco watched his father step from the tent. His mother waited a beat and turned around. "Draco, you must stay here. You will be safe if you stay inside this tent. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mother."

When he'd agreed to stay in the tent, he hadn't realized that hell was occurring _just outside_ of it. Nor that it would be set on fire by one of his father's associates. His mother would be furious. The tents all around him were burning. Draco scrambled out of the tent and took off toward the forest. He would find a place near there and wait for things to die down. He could wait for it to end.

The tents he ran by were all on fire. It wasn't until he ran several rows away that the tents were still untouched. Nobody here had noticed what was happening just a few rows over.

Fear was creeping up his throat, making it tight. He fumbled in his robes as he ran and pulled out his wand. Even as he ran he racked his brain for a spell to alert the sleeping fans that hadn't noticed anything amiss.

Just as he settled on a spell, an explosion sounded behind him. He turned and watched in horror as the fire licked the sky where their tent had been. Even in the growing light of the fire, he could see people floating in the air. Quidditch fans all around him started looking out their tents at the noise. To his mortification, Draco retched before taking off for the forest again.

This isn't what he wanted.

/

He'd tried to warn those stupid Gryffindors to get Granger out of sight. Well, maybe he hadn't handled it well. He was still shaking, his hands were clammy and his face felt hot. How was he supposed to warn them in a way that they would have believed? He wasn't. They would never believe warnings from him.

This _isn't_ what he wanted.

* * *

 _Crunch!_ And suddenly, Draco was a human again instead of a ferret. His entire body ached as he stumbled away from that lunatic. Everyone was laughing at him.

Draco couldn't help it, he ran. Crabbe and Goyle tried to follow him, but he shook them off once they arrived at the entrance hall. Hopefully no one would see him sneak to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey was, gratifyingly enough, horrified on his behalf. He had a broken arm, dislocated shoulder, and cracks upon cracks in his ribs. She bustled about, forcing potions down his throat and muttering darkly under her breath.

She didn't even blink an eye when he quietly asked her not to inform his parents. Madam Pomfrey was good that way.

In turn, he didn't complain when she told him he would be staying in the hospital wing for the rest of the evening and to _sit down, young_ man, _before you pass out._

That was good advice, especially after he sat on the bed and the room tilted at the oddest angle.

Blaise was taking a nap in a chair next to his bed when Draco woke up. It was a big squishy chair, one of Theo's specialties. Theo himself was sitting in another one on the other side, reading a book. He looked up at Draco after Draco shifted uncomfortably.

"Draco." He sounded relieved. "You're awake. Madam Pomfrey said she gave you enough sleeping potion to keep you asleep until tomorrow morning, but I'd hoped…"

Draco nodded, wincing when a headache bloomed in his temples.

"I heard about it from Goyle. Moody turned you into -"

"Do not say it."

Theo studied his face, Draco hated when he did that. "I wasn't going to make fun of you, mate. With how Goyle was carrying on about it, you're lucky to be alive."

Draco had worse pain before, and Theo understood that. But this had been unexpected, and from a _professor,_ albeit an insane one. He never thought he'd be grateful for McGonagall stepping into anything.

"Yes." What else was there to say?

"Draco, there was internal damage, according to Pomfrey."

Internal damage? What - Theo must have seen the panic on his face because he cut Draco off before he could start truly making a fuss.

"She fixed it. You're going to be fine. That's why she gave you something to make you sleep, she said she needed to work on you without you freaking out."

"Oh. Good, then."

"You're taking this well." Theo glanced at Blaise, who was still asleep, "you know, considering you could tell your father and he would surely do something."

"No!" Draco's throat tightened. He dug his fingernails into his palms and concentrated on his pounding head for a moment. "No. I asked her not to say anything, and you shouldn't either."

"Why would I talk to your father?" They met eyes. No. Theo understood Draco's situation - Draco's father - better than anyone. He hoped.

"Theo, do not say anything to anyone." Theo held up his hands in defeat.

"I wasn't planning on it."

That settled, Draco cast his mind about for something else to talk about. "What time is it?"

Theo checked his watch. "One."

"In the morning?"

"Yes, you dolt."

Draco bristled. How was he supposed to know he'd been asleep all day? Theo and Blaise were sitting next to his bed, it's not like the windows were visible from where he lay. Theo had those stupid lights floating around, so maybe that should have tipped him off. "Why are you two still here?"

"Snuck in. Didn't want to take the energy to sneak back out. I had reading to do." Theo held up his book, letting Draco squint at the cover. _The Healer's Helpmate._

"Light reading?"

"The lightest."

* * *

They weren't talking again. The boys. Hermione would try to be a pillar of support for Harry, but she knew she wasn't Ron. She held a stack of toast and grinned a tiny grin at her friend. "I figured we could have a picnic outside."

The look of relief in Harry's eyes made her want to cry. Her friend had the worst luck in the entire world. Seriously. He was cursed into competing in a tournament that was, frankly, out of his league. On top of that, everyone thought he somehow tricked the cup, fixed the tournament in a fit of attention-seeking behavior. Ridiculous. She couldn't change public opinion, but she could make sure Harry Potter ate food and had someone to sit next to in classes or at meals and was mostly prepared for this stupid, _stupid_ tournament.

She could have stomped her foot in frustration.

She tried it out while talking Ron, trying to talk sense into him; but apparently, foot-stomping had absolutely no effect on the redhead.

Hermione watched Harry glare at the lake as she conjured a jar to hold bluebell flames. It was obvious someone was trying to harm her best friend, and she couldn't let that happen. But she had no idea how to protect him from his friends, let alone his enemies. Having his friends shun him was probably more painful for Harry. Well, not her. She knew what it was like to be alone against the world, and Harry had turned that around for her. She would never let Harry face life alone.

* * *

"Accio!" The voice was coming from a door down a side corridor. Funny, he didn't remember there being a classroom there. Draco turned toward the door and crept up to it slowly.

"That's it, Harry! You've got it!" No. Granger. It was as if little warning bells went off in his head - Danger! Do not proceed unless prepared to torment your peers! Danger! - but that spell was a little advanced, wasn't it? He already read the entire charms book more the year, and Accio was not in it. He opened the door slowly, just a crack. Just to see.

Potter stood on one side of a large room, wand pointed toward Granger, who stood on the opposite side.

"Do you suppose we should try something heavier? Or from farther away?"

Potter, back facing the door, shrugged. "Let's go with heavier, I guess. We can't practice out of this room and, really, if I haven't got it now, I don't think I will."

Granger indicated a desk sitting next to her. Had that been there before? "Summon the desk."

Potter did. It flew toward him, he jumped out of the way before it crashed into him. Too bad.

"Great, Harry! Great. You'll be fine. You will. Do you want to keep practicing or sleep?"

"Let's keep practicing."

Draco eased the door closed and strode toward the library. Why were they practicing that charm, of all the advanced charms they could be practicing?

* * *

They cheated.

They had to have cheated. Draco glowered at Potter as he flew up and away from the dragon, obviously trying to get the beast to leave the nest. It was a good strategy, but he was still furious.

They knew beforehand that Potter would need his broom. And Granger helped him practice a skill that he didn't already have because _they knew he would need his stupid broom._

Draco was furious.

Back in the Great Hall at dinner, Potter, once again, was everyone's favorite person. _The boy who lived._ _The youngest seeker in a century. The boy who fought a dragon on a broom and won because he's so amazing. The cheater._

Stupid Potter.

The student sitting next to him jostled his pumpkin juice. "Watch it!"

Draco knew he couldn't complain to Blaise or Theo about it, but Crabbe and Goyle would listen to him without talking back.

Could he handle Crabbe and Goyle following him around all year and not talking back? He might have to, but they were terrible conversationalists. They just stood there like statues, grunting in agreement every now and then. Not that he needed _conversation,_ mind. Some intellectual stimulation would be nice, though. He'd dealt with the two great lumps all through the beginning of the school year. He'd thought, after the ferret thing, they would stick around. But Blaise and Theo had given him an ultimatum. Honestly, he hadn't been sure how to react for so long, he'd let it drag out.

 _It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, and nearly everyone was in bed, exhausted from running around the village earlier that day. Draco lounged on his throne in front of the fire while chatting with Blaise and Theo._

" _Draco, shut it."_

 _Draco, mostly out of surprise, did stop talking. Theo had never snapped at him like that before, he was usually content to just tune Draco out. He looked over at the couch where Theo sprawled out, arm over his eyes._

 _"Excuse me?" His voice, to his chagrin, had slipped right out of the affected drawl he normally used at school. Really, though, Theo just snapped at him!_

 _"Draco, mate, I think what Theo is trying to say -"_

 _"No, Blaise, don't put words in my mouth. Draco, stop complaining about Potter and his band of merry misfits. There are other things to talk about, truly."_

 _Blaise grumbled a bit, but added, "That's what I was going to say, mostly."_

 _Theo snorted and raised his arm off his face to look at Draco. "If you can't talk about something else, anything else, I'm not going to listen anymore." He sat up and peered intently at his friend, elbows resting on his knees._

 _"I am not -"_

 _"That bad?" Blaise asked. "Yeah, actually, mate, you are. Did you know my mother has married again?"_

 _Draco tried to conceal his shock. "Yeah, again. And this bloke is a rotter. Probably won't last a year. But you haven't stopped complaining about Potter long enough for me to get a word in edgewise about it. And Theo -"_

 _"Don't put words in my mouth, Blaise. My stories to tell, not yours."_

 _Blaise closed his mouth, eyes tightening._

 _Draco waited, but Theo didn't elaborate. His friend wasn't going to tell him until he vowed to stop, what, complaining?_

 _"This is ridiculous."_

 _Theo threw his hands up, and Draco knew that was the wrong thing to say. He watched as his lanky friend stood up. "I'll be up in the room. Draco, I do not want to hear another-effing-word about Harry-effing-Potter. I need a break from it. Don't complain to me. If that's all you can do don't talk to me."_

 _And with that Theo loped out of the room and up the stairs to their dorm room._

 _Draco looked at Blaise in shock._

 _"Draco, mate, Theo had a bad summer."_

 _Draco felt his face screw up, Theo thought he was the only one with a Father that -_

 _"No, I know what you're thinking. I know, trust me. But you didn't even ask. Not once."_

 _Of course he asked how Theo's summer went. On the train… Draco cast his mind back to boarding the train with Crabbe and Goyle behind him. He'd found Blaise and Theo in a compartment and had… complained about Potter taking up space on the train._

 _"Frankly, I'm pretty tired of hearing about Potter as well. I'm going to bed."_

 _Draco sat in his chair, watching his friend slip out of the room._

 _If it weren't so beneath him, Draco might have cried. After the transforming into a ferret incident, he thought..._ _He wanted his friends. Wanted them to like him and stick around, but he didn't know if they were truly his friends. Wasn't sure who was reporting back to his Father. Crabbe and Goyle maybe, but he wasn't sure. He just… wasn't sure._

Well, he was tired of not talking to his dorm mates. His friends. Maybe he could complain about Potter less and, to make up for the reduction in noise he could pick on them often enough for everyone to just _know._ If enough people saw, word would get around and his father would be informed of his actions.

He could pick on Granger more. He shrank back from that thought. He'd held off bullying her as much as he thought he safely could, but eventually his Father would expect more. She had punched him, after all, and his Father hadn't said anything about it, but had, over the summer, taught him lessons about weakness and self-defense. He shuddered.

The Weasleys were good targets, but the risk-reward ratio was poor. There were a lot of Weasleys and those twins would get back at him.

The summer had been bad. Very bad. If his father was so tense, Theo's dad must have been awful. At least _his_ father had his mother to temper him. Theo didn't have that. He stood up from the miserable dinner in the Great Hall. Theo usually studied in the library after dinner, and Blaise was probably with him. He'd go apologize.

He needed real conversation.

He needed real friends.

.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys!  
So this story is going to veer so far from canon. It is fanfiction, but I'll just give you the warning, just in case. This story also is trying to do that thing where it just blows up and runs off out of control into Endless Chapter World, and High Word Count Land. I can't have that, so I'm wrestling with it a bit. It was really meant to be just snapshots, so we'll see what happens! Please let me know what you think, I appreciate feedback. One reviewer did comment about the flashbacks being a little confusing, was this one confusing as well? I am trying to cut those out, so let me know! There's only the one.. but I just wanted to check. Really, guys, this is me trying to develop my voice and writing style so I truly appreciate the feedback.  
Ta-ta!

LL


	4. 4 - In Turn pt 2

_Life is hard as it is. Too many rough roads to travel. Too many chains to untangle. But no matter how cruel the world may be, life becomes less hard when you've got a good friend.  
-_ _Unknown_

At first it wasn't chaos. It was dull. The champion from Beauxbatons had entered the maze and then everyone almost simultaneously realized it was hard to see what was going on. It was boring. It hadn't occurred to anyone that watching a hedge maze so tall they couldn't see anything would be dull?

Apparently not.

But then chaos. Potter just appeared outside the exit of the maze, holding the large tournament cup in one hand, and the still form of Diggory in the other.

Chaos. Draco's blood ran cold. The world tilted and he wondered for a small moment if he was about to pass out, of all things. Theo was there. He was shaking Draco. His mouth was moving and his eyebrows were drawn down. Was he yelling at Draco? _Really, Theo, this must stop. You'll lose your reputation for being quiet._ But Blaise was there, next to Draco. And they were dragging him out of the stands.

"We have to get to the common room, Snape's orders!"

Maybe if people would stop screaming he could think. Diggory laying still, Potter… This was because of Potter. All of it because Potter was the biggest bleeding target in the wizarding world. Target. His father, so wound up this past summer. Theo's dad, bad summer...

Draco came to his wits before they reached the entrance hall and shook his sleeves out of Theo and Blaise's hands. "I can walk, you know."

Blaise scoffed, though he still looked worried. "I thought you were going to pass out." So had Draco, but he wasn't about to say so.

Theo was ignoring Draco in favor of getting up to their dorm. The common room was full of panicked children making noise, Snape hadn't arrived to tell them what was happening yet. The seventh years stood guard around the first and second years, who had huddled together on the floor in front of the fireplace. A common room campout looked likely tonight. Draco wouldn't be surprised. It was a well-kept secret that the Slytherins, cold-hearted, nasty bunch that they were, often camped out in the common room. No one _had_ to join, of course. Somehow, the younger students convinced the older students that they needed to stay out for comfort, and they did. No one was really sure how it started. But everyone knew they were welcome to stay in the common room, especially after big upsets at school. Snape, for his part, turned a blind eye to the slumber parties. He had to know, there was no way he didn't. But he never said anything about them. It was good for morale in a school that was convinced you were evil for wearing a green tie.

They slipped past the groups of students and up the stairs into their room. Before Draco could, Theo pulled out his wand and locked the door, warding it against intruders. Warding it specifically against Crabbe and Goyle.

Draco sat on his four-poster and raised an eyebrow.

"I don't need the stress of having those two burst in on our conversations."

Blaise nodded. They would likely stay down in the common room, but Draco wasn't inclined to disagree so he stayed silent. He was prepared to wait for his friend to talk.

Theo flopped backward onto his bed and put his hands over his face. "My father wrote me a letter a while back."

Theo's father had two modes when it came to communicating with his son; raised voice and violence. A letter was unpleasantly out of the norm.  
"And?" Blaise prompted when Theo stalled.

"His mark has been getting darker." The whisper was so quiet, muffled behind Theo's hands, Draco almost missed it. "Draco, If you were to ask your Father," Draco snorted, "his is too. He didn't say much."

Blaise looked on sympathetically. "The usual?"

Theo huffed and rolled onto his side, facing away from them. "The usual."

The three of them, huddled in their four-posters, found it difficult to find sleep that night. Finally, when Draco could bear the silence no longer, he sat up and cleared his throat. He was about to risk everything. _Everything_. But maybe they could help each other.

He started out slowly, certain that they were both awake, until his words came rushing out faster and faster. When he finally looked up at his classmates, they were both grinning at him.

"Finally," said Blaise.

/

Hermione resisted the urge to shake the jar she trapped that awful woman in. _It's her own fault. She was breaking laws._ She should have known better than to meddle in people's affairs. She shoved the jar down into her bookbag and looked up at her friends. Ron was asleep, Harry gazing out the window.

"Harry?"

He didn't say anything, just glanced at Ron before moving to sit next to her. Hermione was unsure what to say. Did he want to talk about it? Or would talking about what happened set him off?

After a beat, Harry leaned heavily against her until he was lying on the seat with his head in her lap. She scratched his back a few times. It was a tradition they started when needing comfort that year. Sitting in silence, sometimes snuggling. She imagined that was what it was like to have a close relationship with a brother, for that is what Harry was for her. Over the past school year their friendship had deepened until his friendship was more dear to her than any other relationship she had ever known. Even that with her parents. She didn't want to leave her parents behind, but she knew that eventually they would grow too distant to understand her life.

It was her fault. She could not be honest with them and remain in this world she loved so much.

Harry broke the silence sometime later. "I've done something. Possibly bad."

"Oh?" She couldn't imagine what he thought he'd done.

"Remember how the winner was supposed to receive a purse?"

"One thousand galleons, that's right. Oh, Harry, they didn't deny you that, did they?"

Harry shook his head and sighed. "No. But I didn't want it, Hermione."

She made a noise of understanding, but didn't prompt him.

"I gave it to Fred and George," he whispered.

Hermione felt her shoulders start shaking before she realized she was laughing. It was unreal, laughing at a time like this. "Harry!" She finally admonished in a whisper. "You gave them the means to start their business, and oh think of the things they are going to get up to!"

Harry relented and chuckled a bit. "You knew about the business idea?"

Hermione sat up straighter, "I am quite clever, you know."

"Yeah."

"And the twins are so incredibly obvious."

"Are they?"

She nodded. "As if there were any other job in the world that would suit those two so well," she murmured fondly. Then said in a firmer tone, "But they had better mind themselves, they are clever but have a tendency to get into the worst sorts of trouble."

"I thought that was me."

And with that small insertion, the happy mood that had been building promptly died.

Hermione didn't know what to say, "When you're ready to talk -"

"I know, thanks."

And he fell asleep. Hermione levitated a book in front of her, refusing to prop it up on Harry's ear, as he'd so often suggested over the year.

He would talk to her when he was ready.

And she would be ready to talk back. It was time they confronted some truths that had been presenting themselves to Hermione recently. He wouldn't like them, but something had to be done.

/

As Hermione waited for her parents to find her on the muggle side of the train station, Hermione noticed two of her classmates looking out-of-place in their school robes. They had their trunks with them and looked to be in an argument. She squinted at their ties. Slytherins. She tried to place their faces. Definitely in her year, but she couldn't quite remember their names. They occasionally spent time with Malfoy. She casually walked to the pillar they were sulking by and leaned against it. Her mother would be appalled. Eavesdropping.

"I am not staying at his house the entire summer, Theo."

"You don't have to, just floo back and forth!"

"I don't want to be around for -"

"Me neither, but I am learning wards. I think I can ward Draco's bedroom, and we'll have a place to practice. His father doesn't monitor wards like mine, and he hasn't restricted the floo since third year. And, I'm sorry mate, but staying with your mother is completely out of the question."

There was a pause. "She'll expect an appearance from me. Once a week for dinners ought to suffice. Depends on the husband, usually."

"Right, well we need to learn. Draco's got occlumency down but needs to practice legilimency. And we need to practice both. Not to mention -"

"Theo this is literally the worst place we could discuss this. _Muggles._ "

"Right. Well, my father won't realize I'm not home for a few days at least, so I say we go check on -"

A cough from Blaise. " _Our project,"_ Theo continued on. "Then I'll stop by the house so one of the elves sees me, and we'll go straight to Draco's."

"Which train is it?"

"I've got it here, you'd think -"

Hermione stopped listening when she realized her parents were almost upon her. She hadn't seen their approach, she was concentrating so hard on her classmate's whispered conversation.

As soon as she was safely shut in her room that night, Hermione pulled out her notebook and recorded the conversation, word-for-word in code. The notebook wouldn't be protected like she'd had it at school, but she'd planned the code for that. And her parents weren't the type to snoop.

With that off her shoulders, she changed into her nightclothes and went to bed, mind spinning.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello hello! Fourth year at Hogwarts is just a struggle for me. This chapter did _not_ want to be written. *Sighs*  
Okay. So - Housecleaning: My schedule just had a big change. Meaning I have less time to write, and I have other writing projects that I prefer to give more time to. At most, I anticipate to slowing down to post every three weeks. Every other week is more likely.

Embarassingly enough, I also anticipate a bit of a style change. The snapshots were too snapshotty short. But I don't want them long for this story. I'm wrestling with it a bit.

Writing is hard, and feedback is appreciated. *winks at you with both eyes*

My spouse woke me up with the new Star Wars trailer yesterday morning and we spent the rest of the day debating various minutia of the trailer. *Squeeee* What did you guys think (you guys that are into Star Wars, that is)? So excited? I'm dying of excitement. 

Thank you for following along with the story, I hope you're enjoying it thus far. I'd love to hear from you, and... that's it.  
Ta-ta!

LL


	5. 5 - Oh, Fifth pt 1

Oh Fifth, pt 1

" _Seriously? I'm so tired. This is chaos. - Me."_

Hermione had every book she could find with even a mention of occlumency and legilimency stashed under her bed at Grimmauld Place. Ginny wasn't in the habit of snooping, and trusted Hermione to keep secrets for her, so would keep any secrets she happened to find of Hermione's. It was a good arrangement.

She'd asked Harry to help her learn, and was quite good at the emptying out your mind before bed part. Harry was awful at it, he had too much emotion brimming on the surface all the time. When she encouraged him to practice, he'd been taken aback. He was _just_ out of his trial! He was not going to jail! Why was she giving him homework?

Honestly, it was like he forgot You-know-who was back.

Eventually she worked up a pleasant conversation in which she reminded Harry that he and You-know-who had a weird mind connection, and didn't he want to keep the snake out of his head? Fortunately, Harry took it a little more seriously after that. He was actually alright at the legilimency aspect of their studies.

She couldn't get Ron to help them at all. He tried, he did, he just got bored so easily. He didn't see how it could apply to him. She decided to not push him about it.

If she told Ron that Draco Malfoy was probably learning legilimency as they spoke, would he take that seriously and try to learn a defense against the Slytherin? That was the thing, she wasn't sure. Ron wasn't always convinced by reason and logic.

So she stood in the library with Harry two nights before they went back to Hogwarts, practicing the skills again. Fortunately, no one had discovered them practicing magic outside Hogwarts.

"Legilimens!" She tried not to say it aloud, wanted to get it silently, but it was hard to concentrate. Saying it out loud helped her. Harry fought against her, and fought well for a moment. He broke when one of the twins popped into the library.

"Are you two dueling?"

The other twin popped into the room. "Uh-oh. Underage magic! For shame!"

Hermione huffed in annoyance and lowered her wand. "Fred, we aren't dueling. Practicing. Now go away. Don't you two have some contraband to work on?"

"Uh-oh, Georgie, she's onto us." The twins grinned at each other. Hermione watched them play off each other and tease Harry, without listening to what they were saying, until they held out one of their extendable ears to her.

"Want some contraband, little girl?" Fred leered at her.

She couldn't help but laugh, and swiped the fleshy bit of string from his hand, "Don't mind if I do!"

Fred grinned at her and popped out of the room. George shouted, "Oi!" and presumably followed his brother.

Harry sat down on the musty couch, letting his defeat show once the twins were gone. "I just don't think I'm built to block people out of my head."

He was too emotional, they both knew that. "You were doing really well at first. You just need to keep clearing your head and I think you'll get even better."

Harry peered at her. "Why did you start this, Hermione?"

Hermione wanted to give him the speech she'd prepared about You-know-who having a creepy connection, but Harry continued before she could start.

"I know the thing about Voldemort, but how did you come up with occlumency and legilimency? Was it from a book?"

Hermione tried not to look guilty, she did. But she didn't want to lie to Harry about this.

"I overheard something," she finally admitted.

He gave that some thought. "What did you overhear? Who?"

"Some Slytherins were talking about practicing occlumency and legilimency with Malfoy over the summer. I looked it up and thought it could be a good idea."

Harry sighed. Hermione had been pointedly pretending Malfoy didn't even exist for the last two years. Maybe he was surprised she said his name out loud?

"Keeping up with the neighbors, Hermione? That doesn't seem like you."

"Keeping up with the enemy?" Hermione suggested. She was gratified when he laughed a bit.

Keeping up with Voldemort? She wasn't sure at this point. She'd gone over the conversation again and again and couldn't decide why they were studying it. Hermione didn't put any stock at all in Divination, but she could handle intuition. She had a feeling that it was something she needed to consider. Along with the difficult conversation she needed to have with Harry. Shame washed over her, she still needed to have that conversation with him.

Her friend hero-worshiped Dumbledore and wouldn't hear a word against him, even from her. But something just wasn't right, not at all.

/

The platform was crowded with students. Hermione knew she shouldn't do this. It was a breach of privacy, but she stood behind the stone pillar anyway, having convinced the boys that she dropped something on the ground before they boarded.

"I'll be right there," she'd assured them, and then slipped through the crowd until she found the empty corner behind a pillar to hide in. She waited there until she spotted a familiar blond strutting through the crowd. His mother walked smartly beside him, but she didn't block Hermione's view.

Heart in her throat, Hermione raised her wand and breathed, "legilimens." She stared intently at Draco as she hit a mental wall. Her heart rate increased as he stopped in his tracks and glanced around, eyes serious. It was made of a shining dark stone, and filled her vision. There was nothing except the stone. No doors, no windows, She hadn't expected such a defense. Nevertheless, she kept pushing, sliding along the wall to see if -

He threw her out. Hermione turned and slammed her back onto the pillar, trusting the shadows to keep her hidden. A searing pain shot through her head.

He'd done it. He'd thrown her out of his mind. No matter. She pulled her hair back into a large bun and concentrated on breathing for a moment, before slipping out from behind the pillar and onto the neared train compartment. Despite the dull throb that descended in her temples, she kept a light smile on her face as she weaved between classmates until she found Harry in a compartment with Neville, Ginny, and Luna, Ginny's friend. She gave them a small wave and smile, and continued to the head of the train.

Ron grinned at her as she sat down next to him and turned her attention toward the Head Girl.

As the Head Girl was explaining their duties, Hermione felt someone probe into her still aching head. She stiffened, but kept a slight smile on her face. She quite clearly pictured in her mind a room filled with filing cabinets. Perhaps it wasn't as effective as a stone wall, but it felt natural to her. It reminded her of her parents' dental office. She continued to picture only the closed and locked drawers as she glanced around the compartment.

Her eyes swept passed Malfoy and landed back on the Head Girl.

"We got the rotations all worked out, they'll be handed out tomorrow morning. If you have a problem, cry to the Head Boy, I won't be changing them!"

The pressure against her mind slipped away, nearly as stealthily as it appeared. Out of the corner of her eye Hermione watched Malfoy fiddle with his sleeve, where she was certain his wand was stashed.

She stood with Ron and made her way back to the compartment her friends were in. No matter. She would figure it out eventually.

"I can't do it!" Harry dropped onto the couch in the nearly empty common room.

Hermione didn't glance up from her book. "Can't do what?"

"Snape is -"

"Trying to help you protect your mind, Harry. I know you don't like him and he doesn't like you, but he's trying to teach you something important."

Harry got a mulish look on his face. He wasn't hearing her.

She wanted to scream. This was more important than petty rivalries or quidditch! She'd thought after what happened over the winter break… He never listened to her unless it suited him. Tears pricked her eyes. Hermione looked up at the ceiling, frustrated with Harry and her emotions rising so easily to the surface.

The boys both noticed her emotions rising up easier than usual. She was so tired. But she couldn't tell them she was constantly wrestling _someone_ out of her mind. No, they wouldn't take it well, even if she had started it.

When she felt in control again, she sighed and softly continued. "Please try, Harry. Just try emptying your mind before bed. I think it will help it not bother you so much with Snape. I can do it with you?"

The stubborn set of his features softened. "It's important to you?"

Dimwit. It was important for the entire wizarding world. Hermione waited a few moments, realizing that replying emotionally would not help her emotionally-fraught friend.

"Yes, very much."

"Okay," he brushed his hands over his face with a defeated sigh. "Okay."

She smiled at him brilliantly and returned to her book. In a way, she was almost grateful for Malfoy's random attacks. Her defenses were much stronger than they had been at the beginning of the year.

No. It wouldn't do to tell the boys. Let them keep thinking she was fraught with emotion due to _girl_ issues.

/

"Expecto Patronum, Expecto Patronum." Hermione muttered it under her breath, practicing the wand movement without her wand.

Harry knew she struggled with it, and he wanted her to be ready for the D.A. lesson in a few weeks. She was sure she was saying it correctly, and the wand movement was not a difficult one. Why couldn't she get this?

She pulled the thick book toward her. Studying the theory was comforting and familiar, but the spell itself eluded her again and again.

Her alcove was quiet, the library more muted than usual.

She could do it. Just a happy thought. The happiest one she had. She did have happy memories, she did. She just had to focus on them.

Hermione glanced at her watch, she would practice tonight in the Room of Requirement after the others left. She could do this. It was an advanced spell, but she could tackle advanced spells. She could do this.

She stood and exited her alcove, placing the book on the nearest return cart on her way out of the library. She could do this. She would practice until she got it.

/

Hermione pulled down another book on advanced charms, smiling softly as she walked through the library. She succeeded in producing a patronus only the night before. An otter. It was a beautiful thing. The way it glided around her as she laughed made her want to pull out her wand and produce it again.

Maybe the library wasn't the best place for that.

Soft light filtered through the windows, the sun was already setting. Still so early in the day. Her alcove table was scattered with books. There had to be something that could help Harry in one of them. Harry tried to draw the line at meditation, but that was really the only option they had left. She couldn't find anything else. Harry's inability to consistently practice clearing his mind was more than just bothersome. It was dangerous. And what was clearing your mind but mediation? "Isn't there a spell?" He'd asked. As if simply practicing something was beneath him. She pinched her nose in thought, maybe visualization of his own patronus? And just that? She would run the idea by him.

Helplessly, she looked around her alcove at all the books. There had to be something here. If she couldn't get Harry to practice meditation, she had to find something. Anything.

She sat on the squishy armchair facing the table. There was a chilly breeze seeping in through the window in front of her, and she conjured several jars to fill with bluebell flames. Madam Pince would skin her if she saw, but the lighting in the alcove was truly terrible, and there was that draft.

The blue of the flames reminded her of her patronus, and she happily lost herself in the reminder that she successfully produced a corporeal patronus. An otter. The little animal matched her temperament in so many ways. Clever… and solitary.

She frowned. Was it part of who she was, to be alone on her journey?

She didn't want to be alone. No, she wasn't alone. She wasn't. She had Harry. And Ron. And all the Weasley's. She wasn't alone. She ignored the insidious whisper, _always alone. Always._

The book in her lap trembled. She stared at it in blank confusion until she realized it was her trembling. Patronus. She could produce a corporeal patronus because she was a skilled witch with friends and happy memories. She pictured her otter in her mind; beautiful and swimming around her alcove with her.

She was concentrating so hard, when something foreign slipped into her thoughts, she didn't even realize.

The otter swam around in her mind's eye turning pages of books and lighting up her thoughts. It swam around and made her curls sway around her face, just as it had done last night in the Room of Requirement with the D.A.

She smiled.

* * *

Draco slide down the bookshelf, his breath stolen from his lungs. That wasn't what he expected to find. He was so certain he could sift quietly through her thoughts. Certain it had been her trying to break through his defenses on the platform before school started. Certain he could slip in quietly enough to bypass her office room with all the strange cabinets this time. She was distracted, maybe enough for him to finally break in.

Instead, he'd slipped into her mind to be surrounded by _that._ A patronus. _Her_ patronus. Oh, he had caught where she was, surrounded by others, learning defense. _Breaking the rules_ , of course. They always were.

But he had to know. He had to know if he could make one. Make a protector from the darkness.

She would teach him.

* * *

"Granger."

Hermione gasped and fell off her chair in her effort to twist around toward the voice. Malfoy. Her hands went cold, fingers tingling against the cool stone floor beneath her. She stood up. No need to sit there and let Malfoy stand imperiously above her.

"What?" She didn't try to keep the irritation out of her voice. This was her alcove, her space. He was the interloper.

She was looking into his eyes defiantly when she felt the attack. She tried to throw up her walls, her safe filing room, but he blew through the walls as if they were paper. The more she tried to hide and retreat in her mind, the harder he pushed.

Almost as soon as it started, it was over. They were both breathing heavily. Hermione stared wide eyes at the blond. He just attacked her! To her face! No subtlety at all! She dove for her wand, laying innocently on the table behind her. Malfoy pounced on her, and they scrambled for the wand. She had it in her hand when he grabbed her wrist and squeezed. She felt her hand curl in of its own accord. She struggled, keeping the wand in her palm until he shook her wrist once to dislodge it. She dropped her wand.

"No," she whispered, watching it clatter to the floor.

"Calm down," he snapped in a harsh whisper. "I know what you are doing. With the others."

Hermione's eyes widened and she struggled against the Slytherin. He remained unmoved. Damnit! Why was she so small? He pinned her wrists to the table and snapped at her again. "Knock it off! I just want to talk!"

She glared at him.

"Teach me the patronus and I won't mention your rule breaking to anyone."

"What?" She was floored. When Malfoy trapped her in the alcove against the table that was probably the third from the last thing she'd expected.

"I know it was you trying to break into my mind on the platform before school started. Lousy attempt, by the way." He smirked. "Tossing you out of my mind didn't require any effort at all on my part. Not to mention all the times since..." he trailed off.

Hermione felt a blush creeping up her neck. He had no way to prove - !

"And I know you and your little friends have an illegal defense group." He leaned toward her, and Hermione arched further back to distance herself from his angry face.

"Teach me how to do the patronus charm and I won't let it slip to that toad what you and your merry band of misfits are up to," he hissed. "Meet me here tomorrow after dinner, unless you want all your little friends expelled. Or worse, under Umbridge's thumb the rest of the year. Blood quills are just the beginning with the old hag."

And with that he released her wrists and stepped away. He turned abruptly and slipped out of the alcove. Hermione dove for her wand and clutched it to her chest. Were it not for her homework lying on the floor next to her, she would wonder later if Malfoy really had been in her alcove just then or not.

What the hell did he want to do a patronus for, anyway?

* * *

 **A/N:**  
I'm fightin'! With the story, I mean. Honestly. Writing is a struggle. One I love, of course, but still, a struggle. I noticed I have a tendency to forego description of anything and instead just go to dialogue. Which is lame. I hope I'm not doing that too much. But at least I noticed so I can combat that! That's what practicing is for! Anyway, I did a quick edit on this, but not as thorough as I usually like to do, so sorry if there are lots of errors.  
Thanks for reading, feel free to drop some feedback, it is always appreciated. Trying to keep the story within the parameters I originally set (style and story-wise) is more difficult that I imagined it would be. Ah, well. Writing this, even if I'm not exactly pleased with it, is a nice outlet from everything else.  
This chapter was a bit longer and I struggled with where to stop it. I kept trying various places in this chapter and the next one and just nothing felt right. So I hope this ending works well and leads well into the next chapter!  
Well, thanks for reading along guys! The next chapter should be posted either next week (middle of) or the week after (also in the middle... ish).  
Ta-ta for now!  
LL


	6. 6 - Oh, Fifth pt 2

Oh Fifth, pt 2

" _Experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn. My God, do you learn."_

– C.S. Lewis

"Merlin, Malfoy! I don't know what you want me to tell you! Just think through your miserable little life and pick your happiest memory! It's not like you have to tell me what it is," she shouted. They were ensconced in the Room of Requirement after dinner. She could already tell their lesson was going to be a disaster. But his highness so insisted.

He glared at her. "I'm thinking! Calm down. I can't think of _anything_ happy with you harping on in my ear."

Hermione spun around and grabbed her book bag. She stomped forward a few steps and slammed it on the top of the desk she'd willed to appear there. "Well, _your highness,_ while you are thinking about it, I'm going to do actual work. Is that acceptable? Or should I expect to be expelled in the morning?"

They glared at each other as Hermione reached into her book bag and pulled out her arithmancy work. She hoped she was pulling out her arithmancy work. She didn't want to lose the staring contest to make sure. She pulled the chair out from the desk and sat down, still glaring at Malfoy.

Finally, he turned away and Hermione let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She glanced down. Huh. Arithmancy. Nice.

"Just think through your favorite memories and pick a few. Then we'll go on." She'd tried to explain she wasn't actually very good at the spell. Theory was her strong point. The spell didn't come easily to her. He didn't care.

Malfoy stomped over to the fireplace the room provided and tossed himself onto the couch. "That just seems like a stupid way to create a spell. What if the memory isn't 'happy' enough? Who decides what happy is anyway?"

What, he wanted to debate philosophy with her?

"Ugh!" Hermione reached back into her shabby book bag and pulled out the theory book she'd checked out in anticipation to teach Malfoy. She stood and stomped over to where he lay on the couch, arm over his eyes. He was the very picture of elegant discouragement. She dropped the book onto his stomach. "Page two hundred and seven. Theory behind the patronus charm. Read that and we'll chat."

Malfoy curled around the book with a soft groan, but said nothing else, so she stomped back to the desk her arithmancy work was laid out upon.

This was stupid. She didn't have time for this!

Two hours later, Malfoy still hadn't said a word, and Hermione finished with her Arithmancy essay. She stood up from the desk to stretch and glanced over at the couch where Malfoy lay - asleep! No wonder she'd been able to get so much work done! What a waste of time.

She shoved her work and books back into her bag and slung the bag onto her shoulder before stomping over to the blond slumbering on the couch. The fire was low, the light playing off his hair. It was too bad, really, that Malfoy had such a bad attitude to go with such good looks. He was pretty in a way that most people could only ever dream of. Stupid boy. Pointy chin and pretty hair.

She snatched the book from his stomach where it lay open. He was going to ruin the library book! "Hey," she hissed. "Wake up!"

Hermione didn't know what she expected when waking a sleeping Malfoy. But his reaction wasn't it. His eyes snapped open, glazed over with sleep, and he shot off the couch, grabbing Hermione's shoulders as he went. He rolled the two of them onto the floor until she was pinned beneath him. One arm was thrown across her collarbone the other holding his wand to her throat. His teeth were bared and he was breathing heavily. The book lay flung out on the floor inches from her fingertips.

Hermione lay very still, waiting for him to wake up fully. She suddenly remembered a few words he'd said to her frozen form back in second year. _It's not a risk I'm willing to take…_

Hermione stared at the nearly feral face of Draco Malfoy as the haze of sleep faded away. He jumped off her in horror and backed away from her.

"Um," she said.

"I'll contact you when I've picked a memory, then." He turned around and nearly sprinted out of the room, leaving the theory book on the floor beside Hermione.

Hermione sat on the floor until the cold from the stone seeped through all her layers of clothing. The fire was only coals, and her heart had finally resumed a regular pace.

Something shifted in her mind. What was going on? People don't just wake up like maniacs. No one does that. She had to know. What was going on with Draco Malfoy?

* * *

Stupid girl really needed to try harder. No subtlety at all. She was like the ghost of a drunk wrecking-ball trying to sneak into his head. Or he liked to think so anyway as he felt her trying to sneak along his mental blocks. He grimaced, took a bite of his apple, and threw her out of his head.

He'd fallen asleep in front of her, then attacked her when she tried to wake him. It was embarrassing. No wonder she was trying to break into his mind. _Poor Malfoy wakes up from his sleep in a rage. I'll figure out what's wrong and help._

Stupid girl, with her magical hair and sympathetic eyes.

He growled at his breakfast.

Blaise took offense. "If you don't like your food, take it up with the house-elves, don't ruin our morning with your foul mood."

Theo glanced up at them and turned a page in his book.

Draco bristled. "I didn't sleep well."

"You slept like a log. Once you actually got into the dorm," Blaise said, a sly grin on his face. "Something wear you out?"

"Shut up."

Theo glared at them over his book, irritated. Theo didn't growl at them, but Draco could tell he wanted to. He was a bear until he was fully awake. And not a cuddly one.

"What are you reading, Theo?" Blaise's voice was too loud, too cheerful.

Theo lifted his book so Blaise could read the title himself.

Potions was a disaster. Draco tried to peer into Granger's mind again, only to be met by that stupid office room. He would have to time his approach for when she was distracted, didn't have her guard up. Like in the library before. She was trying to access his mind, it was only fair he do the same to her.

He was trying so hard to access her mind his potion was only just passable. Hers was better and she'd been thinking about a stupid room the entire brewing period!

He growled at Blaise as they jostled each other toward the exit. Theo, finally awake, eyed him out of the corner of his eye and reached to his bookbag. _The Healing Arts._ Draco never figured out how the man could walk and read at the same time, especially with all the traps the castle liked to spring on students.

Granger drifted by them in the hallway. She turned slightly and smirked in his direction.

Stupid girl.

* * *

Theo watched his best friend and that Gryffindor square off to do battle again. They were getting so obvious, it was actually making him uncomfortable. Either they were having a marathon of the world's creepiest staring contest, or Draco tried practicing Legillimency on her, and she stood her ground. Or fought back. Entertaining as it was, it was uncomfortable. Would be worse if Blaise caught on.

He shuddered. Blaise catching on would be a nightmare. Good thing they were sitting in the library. Blaise, while studious enough, could only concentrate on studies for so long before he needed to get up and move around. He was currently chasing his tail or some tail or something in the hallways. Theo was grateful. Blaise wanted to _talk_. They didn't need to talk, they needed to study. To practice.

And Draco wasn't helping with his fascination with the Granger girl.

Finally Granger disappeared into the stacks of the library. First he felt relief, then only a few minutes later he watched with a quiet sort of horror as Draco casually stood up and left the table. He followed her.

Into the stacks.

Oh Merlin. No. Draco, no.

Theo debated. What to do. To sit here and wonder, or be like Blaise and stick his nose into it?

He got up. Stick his nose into it. He crept toward where Draco disappeared and wandered quietly until he found them.

They were whispering at each other in furious voices. He crept closer in the row next to theirs.

"I can't tonight! I have things to do, I don't bend to your whim, Malfoy!"

Draco was leaning on the bookshelf across from her, examining his nails, of all things.

"I would make time, if I were you, Granger."

She threw her hands up. "Have you even picked a memory, yet?"

"Yes." He looked affronted.

"Fine," she hissed.

She stomped away, back toward her table. Theo was about to sneak back when he saw Draco slump against the shelves, almost deflating.

Bizarre. What were they doing? He had to stop himself from sneaking into Draco's mind. They'd practiced so much this summer, it would be easy. So easy. No. He'd respect his privacy. Draco would tell him what was going on eventually. Probably.

He thought about that a moment. Something having to do with Granger? No. Draco would never say a thing.

He snuck back to the table, managing to slip in before Granger got back to hers.

Draco didn't come back until Theo finished his chapter and started into the next. He regretted sticking his nose into it.

Best to pretend he hadn't. Draco would let him know if things got out of hand, surely.

* * *

She wasn't trying to pry into his mind anymore, but that didn't mean their lessons stopped devolving into fights. He wasn't quite sure how their tumble ended this way, but he was frozen. Tired of being the bad guy. She had to have guessed it by now, right? They were almost friends, after all. Or at least, not enemies, which was a fair step toward friendship, he thought.

He hit his head lightly against the stone beneath him, trying to knock some sense into himself. He couldn't. Not when she was straddling him, wand pointing at his nose. Her eyes were lit up in fury, her hair a halo around her head, floating around with righteous indignation.

She was glorious.

He shied away from the thought immediately. It wouldn't do to have that in his head. Someone would find it. Someone who should never see it. No one should ever see it. Not even him.

"Granger," he finally murmured. They couldn't stay like this forever, not without him embarrassing himself. "Get off."

The light in her eyes dimmed a bit, and she looked around, startled. Like she was waking up. She scrambled off him and scooted away on the stone floor until she hit the wall.

"Just keep practicing then," her voice was pitched too high. Nervous. What started that fight? He couldn't remember, as he watched her stand up and bustle around her book bag.

/

Theo was watching him too closely. He glanced at him sideways as he slid into his seat in the library.

"Oh, you're studying here tonight?" He kept his voice light, but Draco knew his friend. There was something else there.

"Yes." It took effort to not make his answer a question. Theo would talk if he wanted to.

"I just thought you'd been studying in one of the abandoned classrooms lately."

"Yes, for practical stuff, but I still need books." Short answers were best. Stick mostly to the truth. Empty his mind. Was this a test?

Theo didn't respond, simply scratched out a sentence on his parchment and continued writing. Draco didn't feel Theo slipping into his mind at all. So not a test, then?

After an hour in the library, Draco watched out of the corner of his eye as Granger slipped through the main doors and out into the castle. He waited fifteen minutes and made his excuses to leave. He was finished with his essay anyway, Theo had no reason to suspect anything was amiss.

"Do you want help with practicing?"

He stopped cold. "Practicing?"

"Yeah, you're going to go to the classroom and practice tonight, right? Or are you making rounds for Umbridge?"

"Umbridge." The lie slid so easily out of his mouth, he almost didn't realize it did. He could walk around and pretend for a bit to be on rounds. That would make it not a lie anymore.

"Want some company?"

What was Theo's problem? He was never this clingy.

He shook his head. "Better not, I'll speed through my rounds and turn in early tonight, I think."

Theo's lips twitched. Was he trying not to smile? Draco sped out of the library, uncomfortable. He would cut the practice short tonight. Do rounds on the way to the Room of Hidden Things, practice with Granger for an hour at most, and turn in early.

He couldn't tell Theo about Granger, but he could do his best to not lie outright.

They didn't practice at all. In a bizarre turn of events, Granger made him quiz her on defense spells.

The quizzing didn't stay peaceful long, and they got into a debate on the best defensive spell for nonverbal hexes from a possibly dark magic wielder. He couldn't help it, he enjoyed taking a contrary opinion to hers, simply because she got so worked up about it. The best was when she, so sure of her defense, suddenly decided he might be right and she needed to study more about it. Not tonight, though, she was so convinced she knew best. Not enemies, at least.

/

Weeks. Months? He hadn't warned her in time. That girl gave them up, and the only thing he could think of was to send his old house-elf to warn them. Even that hadn't been a guarantee. They'd got out, but Dumbledore disappeared that night. And now Granger refused to help him with his patronus. Refused to study with him. She refused to acknowledge his existence. Weeks. Months.

Really frustrating. And Theo kept looking at him suspiciously.

Equally frustrating.

/

The letter from his mother made his blood run cold. He had to say something. He'd been so content to just wait it out, do what he needed to do. This wouldn't end well, maybe he could warn Granger…

Things were moving ahead of schedule.

Umbridge required his immediate assistance.

Granger was struggling in his arms, his wand jammed against her neck while the Gryffindors' wands burned holes in his pocket. Her hair choked him, like it had a will of its own and desired his immediate demise. Maybe he could salvage this…

Umbridge had a sick look in her eyes, was she insane. Insane. The same look he'd seen in…

The mufflatio he'd made Granger teach him seemed to do the trick, but Granger broke his nose with the back of her abnormally thick skull when he tried to warn her.

Then she was gone. Into the woods. She never came back. Merlin.

* * *

He hadn't practiced. She wouldn't ask him about it, but it was obvious. With Malfoy's words ringing in her ears, Hermione ran down the empty hallways of the Ministry.

She would never ever tell Harry 'I told you so," but Merlin she wanted to. She'd known something was wrong, especially when Malfoy tried to tell her not to go tearing out of the castle tonight. But here she was, tearing around the Ministry.

She'd never been more terrified. Never. Her throat felt tight, like she'd never take a full breath again. She would take up sprinting if they got out of this alive. And she'd duel with everyone she could convince to practice with her. She'd even talk to Malfoy again if he'd help her learn to defend herself. Even if he was Umbridge's pet. Even if he was a Death Eater's son. Even if he might become one himself. If she just made it out alive.

They were trapped. They were split up. If she could just… Men burst through the door behind them.

"Silencio!" It worked! Now she just –

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think (while staying kind, I believe you can do both even if you hate it). Trying to stay true to my original idea while still letting the story do its own developing... ha. Anyway, I had almost zero time to edit this, so if you see anything either let me know or ignore it.  
Anyone else freezing? November is my second favorite month, just after October. I like how the autumn leaves look, but I also really enjoy the spindly dead-looking branches of trees after the leaves have all fallen off. Is that weird? Idk. Anyone else?  
Anyway, I appreciate the feedback and all you guys who have read the story thus far, I super appreciate all of you!  
Ta-ta!

LL


	7. 7 - Sixth, No Sense pt 1

" _Boy, why are you crying?"_

* * *

There was a boy crying in her ear. Stop that.

Wendy Moira Angela Darling. No, that wasn't right. That wasn't her.. Just the story her mother liked to read.

Why are you crying?

Pain.

Hell.

No, that tastes bad. Oh. Relief, so nice.

Boy, why are you crying? No. No that was the story. _Hermione, Dear, it's just a story_. _Magic is just a story._ _No pirates, no ships, no flying, crying boy at the window._

Mum?

"Why didn't you listen to me, stupid girl?"

Well, now. That's uncalled for.

Was she dying? That doesn't happen in the story.

Dying shouldn't hurt this bad.

Pain.

Stop. Stop. She was burning.

"Shhhh."

No. That was familiar. Don't listen to him, he can't tell you what to do.

"Shhh, Granger, quiet."

Don't tell me what to do.

"Merlin, Granger. Do you have a death wish?"

She cracked her eyes open. Hermione wasn't sure if she was awake or not. A bruised-eyed Malfoy stood beside her bed. That didn't seem right at all, so she assumed she was asleep.

Malfoy dipped his head to the side and pondered her. "Awake, are you?"

Hmmm. She didn't think so, and didn't bother answering.

"You almost died."

Yes, she definitely did. Wasn't sure if she didn't, to be honest.

"Your hair looks atrocious." He rubbed his nose. "Not that it ever looks anything but."

What had she done to deserve this circle of hell? She never thought her afterlife would be Malfoy insulting her hair while she lay silently on a cot in the hospital wing.

None of this made any sense. They'd been fighting and they'd been in a room. Neville… the men in masks… The one she'd silenced.

Oh. Hermione tried to surge up out of her bed, feeling somewhat lucid. She didn't count on the nausea tipping her to the side. She dry heaved, the pain around her torso multiplied. Stars burst behind her eyes and she fell back to the bed, desperate to stop retching.

Malfoy stood there still, his hands outstretched as if to catch her. So not a dream, then?

"We really need to stop meeting like this." He was trying to be funny, but as usual his humor fell flat. Comedian he was not. He didn't have the sense of timing for it.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I asked the exact same question." A boy poked his head through the curtains. Malfoy's friend. The quiet one with the books and the dark, calculating eyes.

"Shut up, Theo."

 _Theo_ pulled back out of the curtains.

"I'm not sure how much longer I can keep the charm up," he said quietly from the other side of the fluttering cloth. "I've never been good at this one, so hurry it up Draco."

Malfoy scowled at Hermione's nightstand. "I wanted to check on you. See if you listened to me. Obviously you did not." His words were clipped and terse. "Merlin, Granger. You should have just listened to me."

Hermione didn't feel like being berated while in pain from her head to her toes, so she just closed her eyes and listened to Malfoy's voice. His voice was nice. Too bad he never said anything nice to match it

"Who else would teach me the patronus?"

She cracked her eyes open. Seriously? Still? He'd not been successful the entire year. She'd thought - hoped - he would let it go.

He smirked at her. "I'll find some other way to convince you to help me, Granger. You didn't think I'd settle for incomplete lessons, did you?"

"A girl can dream," she croaked.

His eyes were so grim. Had he really been that concerned? Something tilted inside her head. He'd tried to warn her. Oh, her chest hurt.

Draco Malfoy, the boy she couldn't puzzle out. The boy who wanted to learn the patronus, and blackmailed a schoolyard nemesis into teaching him. He was smart and vicious, and had mental walls of stone she couldn't break through. And he was standing at her bedside, for all appearances checking on her health. He'd tried to stop her from running straight into foolishness. They weren't friends.

She didn't understand, so she closed her eyes.

"I'm glad you didn't die." It was quiet, and by the time she opened her eyes to reply, his robes were slipping through the curtains hanging around her bed.

She didn't understand.

* * *

His arm was still on fire when he came-to. But it wasn't the flesh-being-stripped-from-his-arm pain. It was just regular old arm-is-on-fire pain. He could handle that. He could.

He rolled over and threw up.

"Finally!" Blaise was at his side instantly, vanishing his mess then fluttering his hands around uselessly. "You're awake. Finally. Your mom is worried! I need to tell her you woke up! Are you actually awake? Do you understand me?"

Blessedly, Theo entered the room. "Blaise, shut up. He's probably got the worst sort of hangover."

Hangover. If only. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and opened them. Time to look. Time to face the facts. He let his gaze drift down to his arm. It was there. Ugly and inflamed. He was officially under that creature's thumb. As if he never was. He was going to die. There was no way the Dark Lord was expecting him to succeed. But his mother. _His mother._

He closed his eyes again. "Is she safe," he choked out. His throat felt raw.

Theo kneeled down by the couch and held up a vial of blue liquid. "She's fine. Worried about you. Blaise will let her know you're awake. Arm on fire, right?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead just uncapped the vial and pushed it at Draco's face. "Drink this. You'll feel cold all over, but that includes your arm."

It did make his body cold, he felt like a frozen stone. Ready to be tossed into the Black Lake and drown.

Theo must have caught his mood, because he dropped a hideous afghan around Draco's shoulders and whispered, "We'll figure it out. We knew something like this could happen. We'll figure it out."

Blaise strode in. "Got the notice off to your mother. She'll be relieved. Said not to come back for a bit, by the way. She'll cover for you for a bit, send a letter when it's okay to show your face around the manor." He took a hard look at Draco. "You look awful."

Theo snorted. "Of course he looks awful. You would, too."

Blaise gasped dramatically and put his hand to his chest. "Me? Never!"

Draco grimaced while Blaise pretended to fix his hair. They, all three of them were maybe a little vain, but Blaise was just being dramatic. He appreciated it, though, the way his friends were bantering in an effort to get his mind off the pain. Soon enough they would need to be serious. They needed a plan. Maybe he should cut himself off from them and make the plans on his own. Keep them safe.

It hit him suddenly, that he was no longer a safe friend to have, not even in secret. Not even if no one knew you were friends. But someone did know they were friends, and he trusted Theo, but even his best friend could be compromised. He needed to cut off Granger.

Something in his chest hurt. He didn't…. He didn't want to stop his lessons. Even if they usually ended up debating runes, history, spell origin, or books in loud voices. Even if half the time they ended up dueling. Merlin. Would anything ever be okay again?

* * *

Harry was quiet again. Sirius was gone. Dead, they all assured her. Because he'd come out to fight when Harry was in trouble. She thought telling him that Sirius wouldn't want to go any other way wouldn't help at all, so she didn't, even though it was true.

They didn't talk about anything. Not for a long time. Not until Diagon Alley.

Not until they saw Draco Malfoy in the Madam Malkin's and Harry insists upon following him into Knockturn Alley. Not until Harry latched onto the idea that Malfoy was a Death Eater.

Then that was all he wanted to talk about. It drove Hermione mad. She didn't want to talk about Malfoy at all. It made her feel shifty, like she was keeping a dirty secret. But she wasn't. She _wasn't._ She'd agreed to teach Malfoy one measly spell so he wouldn't turn them in.

 _But afterwards?_ Something in her mind whispered. _You weren't always teaching spells. You didn't cut him off after._

She shifted uncomfortably against the tree she'd propped up against while the boys played quidditch. It was true. He'd sent her a letter completely in code without any key. It took her almost the entire summer to decipher. By the time she'd figured it out, she was too angry with Malfoy to reply. He'd used Hogwarts, A History as a code for his stupid threatening letter! The fact that he'd coded "Don't talk about it" at all rang so completely ludicrous, she'd sent him a reply coded the exact same way with a decidedly more obscure book only just referenced in the body of the code.

She'd burned his letter, as per his request. But she didn't see why. He'd simply reminded her she still would be teaching him that spell.

She hoped he spent a lot of time working out her letter. She took a vindictive sort of pleasure in her incredibly wordy letter that boiled down to, "Malfoy, piss off."

It made her happy. Anyone looking at the letter without the key or code would think she was an older gentlemen doddering on about the study of archaic latin. All of the discussion about it was true, too. She was immensely pleased with herself.

The boys landed in the grass finally. Neither of them were quite what Hermione would call 'high energy,' but they both looked windswept and upbeat.

But Harry's eyes were bruised and tired. He'd confided in Hermione that he was practicing emptying his mind before bed, but that it took time. So much time for him to let go of everything, especially Sirius. They walked behind the Weasleys towards the Burrow.

The boys rumbled and fought over the shower as Mrs. Weasley pulled Hermione into the kitchen. "You got a letter, dear," she said, already turning away toward her open potions book.

Hermione stared at the crisp white parchment, folded up with her name carefully printed on the outside. She could pretend she didn't recognize the handwriting, but felt silly trying to lie to herself.

"Did you recognize the owl that delivered it?"

"Hmm?" Mrs. Weasley glanced up from her book, her mind worlds away from the kitchen. "Oh, no dear. It wasn't a school owl. Proud brown thing, well mannered but a bit imperious. Didn't recognize it at all, must have been from an office."

"Thanks," Hermione murmured. She grabbed her letter and strode back out of the Burrow. She probably didn't need to worry about someone reading it over her shoulder, it was probably coded.

He'd used Hogwarts, a History again. He wasn't even trying that hard. The letter was short. "Releasing" her from her "obligation" to teach him the patronus. She should have felt relieved, but somehow felt let down instead.

That ass. He just couldn't make up his mind, could he? But something in her whispered there was a good reason. The Malfoy she knew and hated wouldn't have just let go of an opportunity to learn an advantageous spell for no reason.

She didn't want to think about it. It made her angry. It made her feel _concerned_ for the stupid man. It made her pick apart their meetings and angry conversations; made her want to understand what was going on with him. Though, if Harry was right about the whole Diagon Alley debacle, that would explain…

She didn't understand.

She hated not understanding.

/

Hogwarts wasn't the same. Students were quiet, even the little ones. The first years weren't just awed and nervous, they were terrified. She was terrified. Her path to the library wasn't a horrendously long one, but there were footsteps echoing behind her. When she glanced over her shoulder to see who it was, the echoing stopped and there was no one there.

So determined was she to not be afraid, to not walk faster, she didn't notice when the footsteps caught up to her and shoved her into the door of an unused classroom.

"What," she yelled, pulling her wand from her sleeve. She looked around wildly, already encased in invisible protective shields.

"Relax, Granger," a quiet voice drawled, and Nott appeared out of thin air next to the door. "I just wanted to talk."

She didn't let her shields down, but she pretended to relax. "I need to get to the library. You have two minutes."

Nott's mouth twitched up on one side. "It's the first full day back," he murmured. "What do you need the library for?"

"To study. Don't ask stupid questions."

He held his hands up. "Okay, okay. I'm just here to clarify something. Don't talk to Draco. At all. It's best if you just pretend he doesn't exist, in fact. Don't draw any attention to your… lack of enmity."

She glared at him. It was stupid advice. Of course she wasn't going to draw attention to their 'lack of enmity.' "I'm supposed to teach him the patronus. It's not like those lessons will be public."

Nott shook his head. "No. Those lessons are over, and you and I both know it. It isn't safe to take up residence in his mind. Got it? And don't try and break into his thoughts, either. His mental wall is stronger than last year."

Well, she wasn't going to listen to Nott. She didn't even know him.

"Also, work on your shield, I can see it shimmering in front of you."

And he left.

Hermione made it to the library, but she completely forgot what she'd meant to study.

She didn't listen to Nott, but Malfoy was surprisingly evasive when he put his mind to it.

She watched as Malfoy steadily lost weight. She could see it in the way his robes hung off his shoulders. He wasn't attending meals. He was skipping classes. He wasn't even trying at Quidditch. It was as if the rivalry between him and Harry or Ron didn't even exist.

And she was quite certain he nearly killed one of her best friends. She stomped her way through the library until she hit her little alcove. Almost no students remained at the school for the weekend, she had the library to herself. Even then, she waited until she was tucked safely away behind her desk to cry.

He nearly killed two students. _Two._ His plans were awful, it was like he wanted to be caught trying to assassinate… someone. She hadn't quite worked out who yet. But there were a few obvious targets. Even if one of those targets was actually present at school a shockingly little amount of time for being the Headmaster.

He had to be stopped. There was no way she could live with herself if she stuck around her little alcove and cried until she had no tears left, all the while Malfoy plotted another near death. No.

He had to be stopped.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry, I didn't know where to cut it off so it didn't become a monster chapter.  
aaaand hey guys, sorry for the delay! I caught up to myself in writing, moved twice, and am now on vacation. So, please be patient with me, but don't worry, I won't be abandoning this at any point!  
Um... feedback is much appreciated, even if you have something critical to say, just please be kind.  
Thank you thank you for all those who have reviewed, followed, or favorited the story. I appreciate the feedback as well as the silent type of support.  
Happy holidays to those who celebrate, and happy December & January to those who don't! To all those who are traveling for the holidays, stay safe! Have a good time! Make good choices! 

LL


	8. 8 - Sixth, No Sense pt 2

" _How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the cat, "Or you wouldn't have come here."_

* * *

After asking for what she hoped would let Malfoy shift the room himself, Hermione slipped into the Room of Requirement. When she saw him bow out at dinner, she had to know. She had to know if this was why Harry couldn't find Malfoy on the map sometimes. He'd mentioned it to her in passing. Sort of. Well, he'd muttered about it under his breath when he thought she wasn't paying attention to him. To be fair, she hadn't been. But this made sense. It was the only thing, besides leaving the grounds, that she could think of. And she had to know. The only thing worse than not knowing was having a guess and not being able to prove it. She had to know.

Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long for the room to shift ever so slightly around her. Apparently, a great big garbage heap was where Malfoy was lounging about these days. She roamed around the stacks, looking for a place to hide. Not too difficult, with all the pathways veering away from the main trail she walked along. All this junk… Maybe this wasn't the right place. Maybe she just equated Malfoy with piles upon piles of garbage.

The entire room shifted and shuddered a bit and that's when she heard quiet footsteps echoing in the vast chamber.

It wasn't a difficult thing, to sneak along the mounds of garbage behind Malfoy. He made no effort to silence his footsteps or check around corners. As they moved deeper into the piles of garbage, his steps slowed. By the time he stopped Hermione was only just preventing herself from screaming at him for meandering.

He stopped in front of a tall cupboard, dusty and empty when he pulled on the tarnished handle.

Nothing happened. Hermione watched him poke at the cupboard and mutter for at fifteen minutes, then twenty, then thirty. She slipped back into the shadows when he pulled a book from a musty pile three pathways down from the cupboard, then spent another hour watching him turn through the pages and poke at the cupboard some more.

Eventually, she slipped out as quietly as she could. He was just messing around with a cupboard. Surely that couldn't be nefarious. She glided out of the room, only pausing to give a concerned glance at a young student sleeping in the corridor. The girl had a set of scales clutched in her hands, and they tipped precariously toward the floor every time she exhaled. Hermione was about to wake her when she heard the faintest whisper of the room shifting behind her and decided to break away instead. Everything was fine. It was just a cupboard. Nothing special.

Something stirred in the pit of her stomach. It felt a little like dread.

The thing was, once Hermione took notice of Malfoy sneaking away to the Room of Requirement, she couldn't _unnotice_ it. He slipped away constantly. He was nowhere to be seen during the Hufflepuff/Gryffindor, but that wasn't terribly uncommon. But after the match he didn't even gloat about Harry's injuries or the horrible loss Gryffindor took after McLaggen's arrogance cost them their Seeker.

A coded notebook lay in the bottom of her bag, looking for all the world like a drabby, empty journal. None of this made sense. It would eventually. If she could just… piece it all together.

She couldn't afford to keep following him back to that room. She shouldn't. She really shouldn't.

She did.

* * *

There were two first-years in the corridor again, both holding an instrument or ingredient used in Potions. They didn't look exactly like the first-years standing there last time, or the girl sleeping in the corridor the first time, but this hallway was so very… random. What reason do any first years have to be chatting in this corridor? None.

"Do you know how close it is to curfew?" She strode brusquely toward the whispering students. The girl holding a size 1 pewter cauldron dropped it, the clang when it hit the floor made Hermione flinch. Her palms felt moist. She knew it. Loud noise when item dropped. It had to be some sort of warning. Which could only mean these two _first-years_ were bribed to waste their time here or not first-years at all. Adrenalin flooded through her. She could do this.

"Run along to your dormitories, you two, you might make it back before curfew if you move quickly." They stared at each other. Hermione waved her hands in a shooing motion. "Run along, run along! You wouldn't want to be in the hallways after hours and have a professor come along to take points, would you?" She glanced at their ties. "Hufflepuff is doing well with house points, I'm sure you would hate to ruin that." The two girls, stared at her with big round eyes. She flapped her hands again. "Run along! Run along! And take your cauldron with you," she advised the girl before they scampered away.

After she was certain the girls had actually fled the hallway and were not going to return, Hermione set about getting into the Room of Requirement.

It wouldn't let her in.

Twenty minutes of her pacing quietly in front of that stupid blank wall and it wouldn't let her in. She was about to give up when the quiet grind of stone pulled her from her thoughts. She jumped away from the wall and stared. Where there was only stone, suddenly there appeared an innocuous door. It opened slowly, revealing a shock of blond hair and a pale arm. An incantation was whispered and a miniscule paper airplane flapped away from the open door. The door shut again, but remained in place. Hermione watched the tiny bit of paper make its way down the hallway when an idea sprung into her mind.

The paper was nearly out of the hallway when she pointed her wand at it, duplicated it, and summoned the copy to her outstretched palm.

The little plane stopped flapping once she began to unfold it. On the thin, fine parchment, in incredibly neat print read: _I know I said to keep away from this, but I need you up here for a few minutes. Disillusion yourself this time, idiots._

What an idea. She shoved the parchment into her pocket, later she would put it in her notebook. Hermione disillusioned herself and crept toward the door. She opened it slowly, so slowly it felt like she wasn't opened it at all. Once it was open enough, she slipped in and closed it much faster. The small click when the door closed made her wince, and she stood still waiting for Malfoy to come running, or firing curses, but nothing happened. She crept forward into the stacks of garbage to find a place to hide, moving towards the soft noises that Malfoy made when he worked on the cabinet.

There was a little alcove across the isle from Malfoy's creepy cupboard, inside which was a two-legged chair, a warped upside-down cauldron and a plush purple footstool that turned the back of her jeans bright orange the last time she was here and sat on it. Hermione stared at the footstool. She could stand for however long this would take, sit on that footstool and ruin another pair of jeans, or conjure a towel to cover the stool with. She stared. Her silent conjuring wasn't great yet. Orange jeans? Possibility of making noise?

There was a murmur of voice behind her, she spun around and tried not to gasp aloud. Malfoy and those two Slytherins. The quiet one with calculating eyes and curly hair… Nott? And the flamboyant one with the mother. What was his name, it sounded like a car…. Zamboni? No, no.

"Zabini, I told you to disillusion yourself. What the bloody hell do you call that?"

Zabini shushed Malfoy with a wave of his hands, but before he said anything Nott cut in. "Leave Blaise alone, that's pretty much the only charm that Blaise truly struggles with."

"You should have done it for him," Malfoy grumbled. "It's a risk enough to come up here as it is.

Speaking of risk, have you seen Crabbe and Goyle?"

Zabini nodded. "They came tearing into the room maybe twenty minutes ago. Grumbling about missing dinner. And drafty skirts."

All three boys smirked at once, it looked bizarre and choreographed. Hermione tried not to snort imagining them practicing their smirks together, jostling for place in a mirror, but a noise must have escaped her. Nott glanced her direction out of the corner of his eyes as the other two boys turned toward the cupboard.

Hermione stood frozen, waiting for him to shout 'a-ha!' Her heart pounded, could he hear it? No, that was preposterous. Right?

He _looked_ like he could hear it.

Nott raised his wand. This was it. He knew she was there.

Then he simply cast a soundproof barrier of sorts around the three boys. Mufflatio? She could counter that, right?

No. Probably not. Not without giving herself away. Hermione fumed silently. Her breaths got shorter and shorter. This was a stupid idea, she was going to get caught. Merlin. Her vision started to swim and she had to sit down on that _stupid_ footstool or she was going to pass out. Her head was still between her knees when she heard the spell being lifted and the boys walking away.

Her breathing was nearly back to normal when her wand was pulled from her fingers. Her head jerked up to watch in horror as her wand flew through the air into Malfoy's outstretched palm. He eyed it warily.

"Granger, is that you?"

What.

"Finite."

A floating book to her left crashed to the floor. He adjusted his aim.

"Alright. Finite Incantatum." The spell shot just over her shoulder and hit a blank canvas. She glanced back as colors splashed themselves across the canvas in a landscape with an incredibly angry looking warlock silently fuming. There was a lot of arm movement.

Malfoy, undeterred, shot another spell, then another. Should she dodge or stand still?

A shuddering feeling ran down her spine.

"Granger," he hissed. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing here?"

A quick glance down told her he had managed to counter her disillusionment. And her pants were ruined.

"Yes I can see you, Granger." He advanced into her personal space. Partially because there wasn't a lot of space in the little garbage alcove she hid herself, but the other part -the larger part - was that Hermione Jean Granger wasn't about to back away from Malfoy.

"What, am I interrupting something?"

"Do not play stupid, Granger. You did not just magically end up here. Have you been following me?" His gray eyes widened and suddenly he shoved her into the leaning pile of discarded books behind the stupid pants-ruining footstool. "Have you been following me?" His voice was a low hiss, more serious that it had ever been when they fought before.

If they ever truly fought before. Hermione was only now realizing this was the first time he'd taken such a tone with her when it was just them.

"Listen, Malfoy, I know what is going on here. I think."

He smirked at her. His stupid smirk was right at her eye-level, which made it all the more infuriating of a response. "No. You only think you do. You think you know everything."

"Well I know you're working yourself into an early grave for whatever this is!"

"And what is this, Granger?"

She hesitated. She didn't want to say it in case it were true. It was as if voicing her suspicion out loud would suddenly make it real, something that actually had to be dealt with. "Let me help you," she said instead. "I can help you."

He reared back in surprise. His eyes softened and cast about her face, as if he could find answers written on her cheekbones or chin. Then, without warning, he tensed up and looked over his shoulder.

"Malfoy, what - "

"Shhh!" A large hand clamped over her mouth. Malfoy cocked his head just before Nott walked back into view and saw them. She could barely see over Malfoy's shoulder, but she knew the moment they could see her. Or if not her, her hair.

"Ohaaa?" He backpedaled into Zabini.

"Hey - Theo, what? Oh. Wait. What?"

The two boys stared at them, Hermione and Malfoy stared back. If there was ever a time in her life when Hermione thought that perhaps she would have a heart attack and die, now was that time. Her heart pounded so hard, so fast, she was sure Malfoy could hear it. Could probably feel it from where their bodies were pushed together. Still. He wasn't letting go. Why wasn't he letting go?

She coughed. Malfoy startled and turned around completely, still mostly concealing her from the other two boys.

That was stupid. She could see them over his shoulder. He crowded her backwards and stood up straighter.

Malfoy cleared his throat, but Nott interrupted him before he could even get started. "Don't even try it, mate. I can see her hair over your shoulder."

"Damn. I knew that hair would going to get me into trouble one day," Malfoy whispered.

"Hey!" She reached up and patted her hair. "My hair is not to blame for your actions, thank you!" Malfoy looked back over his shoulder at her with raised eyebrows. Maybe he'd thought he was whispering quieter than he was.

"My hair is not the problem here."

"Well-"

"Now is not the time, Blaise!" Theo cut off his friend. He didn't stomp toward them, but his steps were sharp and agitated as he led Zabini toward their trash alcove. Once in front of them he eyed them both for a quiet minute before pronouncing, "We have to obliviate her."

"What?!"

"No we don't, she'll keep quiet. Won't you, Granger?"

"I most certainly will not."

"See," Theo threw his hands up and glared over Malfoy's shoulder. "Draco, we can't risk it. She's got the Granger face on. Obliviate her."

"What? The Granger face? You will do no such thing! The Granger… this is my face!"

"Granger, be quiet," Draco muttered. "Theo. I have this under control. Go back to the common room."

"Ah, haha, no you don't, mate. What you have is a problem. Blaise, tell him he has a problem."

Blaise looked up from his nails, a bored expression painting his face. "You do. Have a problem, that is."

Hermione shoved Malfoy to the side and strode right up to Nott. "I am not the problem. The problem here is whatever it is that Malfoy thinks he is doing is very obviously _not_ working, and only endangering innocent bystanders in the process!"

She rounded on Malfoy. "You are going to knock it off and let me help you this once! Give me back my wand." She threw her hand out sharply and waited. There was a moment, a brief moment when she saw Malfoy's eyes go wide and angry before she felt hands grab her arms from behind and lift her up slightly off the floor.

"Hey!" She kicked back with her heels but didn't manage to make contact.

"Calm down, Granger," Zabini muttered, grip tightening around her arms. He pulled her slowly away from Malfoy and Nott, who had begun to snarl at each other while she tried in vain to break Zabini's grip. "No, seriously, calm down. I'm just trying to get you out of the line of fire. Sometimes when they disagree," he trailed off and she quit struggling to glance over her shoulder. He shrugged, the movement jostled her as well. "Well it's best to just stay out of the way for a bit. Now, I could use the company of a clever girl while they go at it." He set her down, spun her around, and straightened her black cardigan where his hands had bunched up the sleeves. "What do you know about concealment charms, spells, and/or potions?"

"What?"

"Concealment charms, spells, and/or potions, Granger." He snapped a couple times, the movement pushing the air motes around in swirls. "What do you know about them?"

Confusion bloomed in the front of her brain. It was an uncomfortable confusion. New, sharp, and she wasn't too proud to admit, a little scary. What was happening right now? Why were these boys here? Maybe she'd stepped into something bigger than she thought. But then again, maybe not. Maybe Zabini had a homework question.

"That's too broad a question, Zabini," she snapped finally. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, there's a bright orange-"

"Nothing." Nott stepped into the little pathway they'd been standing in. His steps toward them were sharp, irritated. "Looking forward to working with you, Granger." When he got closer he leaned down and hissed, "You should have taken my advice." Nott knocked his shoulder into Zabini's and strode toward the exit.

"See you soon, clever girl." Zabini winked and flounced after his friend.

"Close your mouth, Granger. You look stupid with it hanging open like that."

She turned on Malfoy, but he was in her space, too close for anything remotely comfortable. "I, wait, no. What was that, Malfoy!? What the bloody hell just happened? I thought they were going to attack me! Obliviate me! Do you know how much damage that could have done, how much trouble you all could get in?"

He had the gall to roll his eyes. "I don't think you can take the moral high ground, here, Granger. You were, what, spying on me? And Nott is quite skilled in most the spells he puts his mind to, hasn't truly mangled any one, or anyone yet. Now," he stepped forward again. It was a stupid power play he loved to use, and she didn't want it to work, but she couldn't think with him standing over her like that, staring down at her. She stepped back until he'd backed her up against an old library bookshelf, charred and sure to ruin her cardigan. A shove at his chest was enough for him to take a step backwards, but he continued to glare at her like it would solve all his problems. "Why were you following me, Granger?"

His eyes darted between hers, studying them as though he could find answers just by looking. "I told you to stay away. I know Nott probably took it upon himself to do the same."

"You are coming awfully close to hurting people, Malfoy. I wanted to know what you were doing so I could stop you."

"Stop me?" He huffed. "I cannot stop. Not now. There's too much on the line. Don't come back here again. I mean it, Granger. I'll let Nott obliviate you if that is what it takes."

"You wouldn't."

"I would, Granger. There's too much at stake here. Don't come back here again. Stop watching me. Stop following me. Stay the hell away from this place."

He stepped away, the air cool in his absence.

"I'm not giving up, Malfoy. If you won't let me help you, I will still stop you."

He shrugged his shoulders, hands up and out to the sides. "You can try, Granger, but do not count on it. I cannot be stopped."

"Can't? Or won't?"

He turned on his heel and strode away from her. "Can't, won't. Take your pick. Makes no difference to me."

In the echo of his footsteps she heard a faint, "Also, there seems to be a bright orange stain on your pants. You should probably get that looked at."

Oh bloody-

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey guys. Yes. Yes. I'm still around. Things happened. Thanks to everyone who is still following along ha.

You know how writers generally have to learn the hard way to **back up the stuff?**

I'm taking suggestions on plot because I lost the stuff. *cries a little* I don't want to talk about it. It was... discouraging, to say the least.

Sorry if this chapter seems super unpolished, but it is super unpolished so there ya go.

I hope you enjoyed this installment. Let me know what you think and please be kind

LL


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